Losing Yourself
by GodsLittleGeek
Summary: Remember we love you. Miguel forgot and he broke his promise. He's losing what made him, him bit by bit. But is an unplanned trip to the Land of the Dead all it takes to bring him back, or is it the reunion with someone he didn't think he'd see again. *The paring is completely platonic.


**~A One-shot then ( cause I don't have enough of those :D ) I absolutely love this movie and I needed some more Héctor and Miguel feels. Shoot me. It's 2:00am. This is also on my Ao3 account, oh and the cover art is not my own but it's pretty great, right?**

 **Read on then I'll stop waffling. ~**

The last thing that happened that night is fuzzing over with the rest, really it all seemed like some dream. The words have faded and even as he made most of them out, the meaning had disappeared. _Remember your family loves you._

If anyone had noticed Miguel's slight withdrawal from the world they had yet to say anything. He was running down the streets toward his favourite quiet place, guitar in hand and a too happy smile plastered on his young face. He greeted passers-by with his usual cheer after all even if he had fallen out with his family he had no reason to worry them. They had never really accepted his music, even after it helped revive Mama Coco's memories. So, Miguel felt sort of hollow as he secluded himself to do the thing he loved, unable to share it with others as his abuleita wouldn't allow him to play in the plaza. Even just being in the plaza wasn't a comfort to him anymore nor was the music there.

Soon Miguel found himself at his spot a giant tree growing a few feet from the edge of a cliff outside of town. He leaned himself against the trunk, in the shade and out of the sweltering weather. His great-great grandfather's guitar rested in his lap, he smiled down at it stroking a hand down its polished body and remembering the replica he had constructed out of junk. He was proud of that guitar and felt his heart splintering a little at the memory of it being shattered into bits of wood.

He looked back down at the guitar in his lap with an expression of apprehension that one would not normally associate with Miguel and his guitar. Lately though his fingers hadn't moved so easily, and he couldn't keep his own rhythm, or even try to sing. It was as if he was slowly losing himself, like a tank that had sprung a leak and was now losing all its water. Miguel's music was spilling out and vaporising on the hot dry sand.

His music was his companion, much like Dante. His heart gave another warning splinter at the thought of his dog that he could only see once a year now. His music was like a best friend, his last tie to the world before he slipped away into the river of loneliness. Without hope.

He clenched his fingers into a fist to stop their quaking, unfurling them he took a deep shuddering breath and set them back on the fret board. They unintentionally found the beginning notes of the first song he ever heard his grandfather sing. That memory of chicharrón disappearing in glowing dust, lead to the memory of the very same glow in Héctor's bones. His chest quaked and the notes rang untrue. He looked at his shaking hands unbelieving tears pricking his eyes. His body bowed over the guitar shuddering with supressed sobs. Without love.

A feeling of being blown by a strong warm wind came over him, but his hair didn't sweep back, and his shirt was left still. There was no wind at all he realised and as he raised his head from his arms there was no guitar in his lap. His head shot up as he steadied himself with his arms, the cliff and the tree had completely disappeared. His breath came in gasps when he recognised his surroundings.

Standing on shaky legs Miguel walked to the edge of the roof, the same edge he had been tossed off that night. But how? Miguel wondered hands buried in his hair. How was he back here? What had he done?

Tingles crawled up his arm and he turned to see the same place he visited in dreams. In cold sweat nightmares of his grandfather turning to dust and slipping through his fingers. The same question that frequented his mind, had he kept his promise? He needed his family right now, they could send him home, but what if he had been too late and they didn't even want to see him? What would Mama Imelda think of the boy who wasn't quick enough to save her husband?

The thoughts sped through his mind and Miguel drew a deep breath through his nose, letting it out along with the sudden anxiety. It wasn't like he had a choice, if this was another curse then his family were the only ones who could help him. Now he just had to find them and of course how hard could that possibly…

Impossibly. That's how hard it was. Impossibly hard. Miguel had left the back stage of the Sunrise Spectacular somehow ending up on one of the brightly coloured streets of the land of the dead. There was laughter and talk, thankfully quite a crowd too so he kept his hood up and his head down. He had less than nothing to go on and bare tatters of a plan, so far it wasn't looking good. It didn't look like he had much of a choice, though he much rather not cause any kind of scene he needed help.

Carefully choosing one of the friendlier looking skeletons, he tapped on the shoulder of a women in a blue dress. She turned the polite smile on her lips turning into an 'o' of shocked surprise, the markings around her wide eyes were remarkably similar to that of Imelda though a vibrant yellow.

Seeing a possible problem Miguel raised his hands palms out, "No it's alright." He calmed.

"You're that boy, aren't you? The one who came from the land of the living two years ago." Her voice was clear and tinkly like a bell.

"Sí, yes I am. I need to find my family. Have you heard of any Rivera's?" He asked, hands clasped in a pleading way as desperation crept into his voice.

Her face softened as she noted his distress, "Try the Melodías de las almas plaza, I think I've heard that name there." Miguel felt a flutter of relief in his heart at the ground this gave him to stand on.

"It's not far from here actually." The lady spun her dress flaring out about her. She pointed with a delicate ivory arm at the closest intersection. "Take a right at that intersection, then go straight until you see this wall covered in bright orange flowers at the end of the street. If you go left from there you should hit the plaza." She turned to face him, smiling as he repeated the directions aloud to her.

"Gracias." Miguel grinned waving to her as he started toward the intersection.

"Good luck Muchacho!" She called.

Keeping his head down again Miguel followed the directions, brushing past plenty of skeletons who looked on after him mildly curious. He glanced behind him worriedly, before he felt something yank on his heart strings. He heard it, soft as it was, he heard it. Singing. It's familiar but he can't make sense of the words or make out the tune. The familiarity brought a calmness of sorts, a feeling that he was lacking around music lately, and it was like a fire in the night, a house in a storm.

He, though he didn't know it, had turned left at the wall of flowers the lady had mentioned, but he was no longer following the directions. The music was louder now, and the crowds were thickening, Miguel was incomplete awe just hearing it. They surrounded the upraised wooden stage, circular and quaint, so unlike its current occupant. Miguel couldn't breathe for a second and it had to be the longest second of his young life.

It was Héctor.

Héctor was on stage singing to the enraptured crowd, his fingers dancing deftly along the neck of his white skull guitar. Hitting all the right places and harmonising his voice in a such a way that none could take their eyes off of him. Miguel fell into that lucid trance that only true lovers of music could achieve.

He didn't recognise the song, but it sounded to be quite a tale of laughter and mistakes. Miguel was whipped into whirlwind of emotion, that it was almost numbing with overload. The absolute joy in seeing his great-great grandfather again for the first time in two years, and the loneliness of those years. But the music, not even the words, but just the sound of his voice and guitar doused the fire of feeling in kerosene. It was all too much and at the same time not nearly close to enough.

The final last vigorous chords thrummed clear through the charged air as the song drew to a close. The crowd cheered and Héctor bowed with a grin.

"Thank you!" He turned in a slow circle, Miguel managed only just to duck behind someone to avoid his eye. Héctor's face was morphing into one of amazement as he took in the mass of people. "Thank you all!"

Miguel smiled as Héctor was recognised for the wonderful musician he was. The boy also noticed how much better his grandfather was looking. His bones were gaining the ivory of the well-remembered and his clothes were the same as that night, though no longer tattered and sporting a dark purple vest. In his opinion the man had never looked better.

"Now my last song," There was a collective groan at the word 'last' and Miguel would've felt their disappointment if he wasn't staring at his 'alive' and happy grandfather.

"Yes, my last song," Héctor started again with a grin. "Is one originally written by my great-great grandson." Miguel's heart stuttered.

"He sang it last Día de Muertos and I miss the kid so here it is." Héctor said with a sheepish and fond kind of look, that had the crowd melting and Miguel smiling impossibly wide.

Héctor plucked out the first gentle notes of his song, a soft smile lighting his face. Miguel could hardly believe it. His song! Héctor was playing his song! The whole crowd was leaning in as the man's eyes fluttered slowly and he began to sing.

" _Say that I'm crazy or call me a fool,"_

His voice was soft with emotion but carried through the silent plaza as if he had shouted. The next few sweet notes had Miguel's hand twitching with the ghostly feel of them on his fingertips.

" _But last night it seemed that I dreamed about you,"_

Miguel was swept into the meaning that this song had in his heart. It felt like his adoration for music was being rekindled and set ablaze with new light, like Héctor was reminding him. Reminding him why he wrote this song in the first place, to express the love he had for his family and theirs for him. Tears pricked his eyes and he welcomed them.

" _When I opened my mouth, what came out was a song."_

Miguel had gravitated forward without a thought and was now only a step away from the stairs leading to the podium.

" _And you knew every word and we all sang along."_

Héctor's voice seemed to reverberate through his chest, creating a pleasant tingling and it seemed he couldn't help himself.

He lowered his hood and the mouths of the people next to him fell open, as he walked between them. He was on the bottom step of the podium before Héctor had sung the next words. Miguel watched Héctor take a breath his mouth opening, and he couldn't hold back.

" _To a melody played on the strings of our souls."_

Héctor's voice choked halfway through when Miguel sang with him and the cheeky part inside the boy roared with laughter.

His head whipped around so fast Miguel was surprised he hadn't lost it to the amazed crowd. The expression on his grandfather's face was a blend of so much emotion at once that Miguel couldn't have stopped if he wanted to. Héctor's fingers were on auto pilot as he struggled to remove the impossibly wide grin from his face in order to sing the next lyric.

" _And a rhythm that rattled us down to the bone."_

The crowd cheered and whistled as they sang together. Their gazes were locked as they shared this wonderful emotion, unable to stop the music as they communicated heart to heart all the things they hadn't had a chance to say over these past two years.

" _Our love for each other will live on forever,"_

Miguel was reminded of poco loco that fateful night, and the connection he felt then. But this. This was so much more, so much stronger that it was almost overwhelming. The crowd fell away and they could only concentrate on each other as the music danced through their veins.

" _In every beat of my proud_ _corazón."_

Everything was whole again as the emptiness inside Miguel disappeared and forgotten things were brought to light. His heart was full as he grinned at Héctor.

" _Ay mi familia, oiga mi gente_ _."_

They danced around each other as the music became livelier. They moved easily and carefree knowing where the other would be, tapping the rhythm on the wood.

" _Canten al coro,_ _let it be known."_

The crowd was clapping along with them, the performance creating an atmosphere of wonder and happiness. The two on stage having the time of their lives and letting the people in with them.

" _Our love for each other will live on forever."_

How could he have forgotten? Forgotten his love for music and family. He had missed Héctor so much and this couldn't have happened a better way. Miguel's heart was fit to burst as the song was drawing to a close.

" _In every beat of my proud_ _corazón."_

The song ended with a flourish of Héctor's hand and the last long note that brought their faces together. They were left panting and happy, the crowd impossibly loud around them. Then the guitar was laid on the stage and they were wrapped up in each other's arms, laughing loudly.

"I was worried I didn't make her remember in time." Miguel admitted emotion clogging his throat, "I'm so glad you're alright."

"Of course I'm all right chamaco. Thanks to you." Héctor laughed squeezing him tighter. "I missed you so much mijo."

Miguel tightened his arms around Héctor's neck, grinning as his eyes burned again. "I missed you too Papa Héctor."

When they released each other, they noticed the crowd again. It was a sea of grinning and cheering faces. Miguel grinned a modest and slightly embarrassed grin, letting out a cry of surprise when Héctor picked him up and put him on his shoulders, beaming at the crowd.

"My great-great grandson!" He yelled proudly, making the people cheer with new vigour.

Miguel grinned a big gappy smile, throwing his arms out wide as Héctor turned. He looked down at his grandfather who was already smiling up at him and hugged his head tightly, much to the delight of Héctor.

The problem of getting him home could be dealt with later. He had a family to catch up with and right now he was back with Héctor and he hadn't a care in the world. This one or the next.


End file.
